Under the oppressive rule of Lind, the people of Emerald Hill were very cooperative, having long since become numb to their plight.
Lind walked towards the shacks of Emerald Hill. The poorly constructed dwellings would hardly be effective in the cold winter months, yet the villagers lived quite well.
They were able to sustain a group of people, and the villagers had not suffered too much from the Calamity's invasions.
A simple wooden fence served as their defense, hardly enough to stop even a jumping adult.
Yet, under these circumstances, life in Emerald Hill was quite stable.
"Do you have farmland?" Lind asked casually.
"A piece of emerald land," replied a middle-aged man, who could be considered "old;" people over 40 were rare, and the harsh living conditions made him look quite aged.
"The land can grow some fruits, which we use to feed the pigs."
Lind's eyes lit up, the meat unaffected by mutations, "No wonder I've been smelling fruit."
